


this woman's work

by myloveiamthespeedofsound



Series: Wherever I Go (I'll Be Looking For You) [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myloveiamthespeedofsound/pseuds/myloveiamthespeedofsound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the tumblr prompt - “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	this woman's work

**Author's Note:**

> There is a warning here for complications regarding child birth and mentions of blood.

_I know you've got a little life in you left_   
_I know you've got a lotta strength left_   
_I know you've got a little life in you left_   
_I know you've got a lotta strength left_   
_I should be cryin' but I just can't let it show_   
_I should be hopin' but I can't stop thinkin'_   
_All the things we should've said that are never said_   
_All the things we should've done that we never did_   
_All the things we should've given, but I didn't_   
_Oh darlin', make it go_   
_Make it go away_

 

 

James Clinton Rogers was born at 4:17 on a Friday morning, seven and a half pounds, twenty one inches and with a pair of lungs on him that rivaled anyone.  At 4:18 on a Friday morning, Steve Rogers held his son for the first time.  Impossibly blue eyes met his own, and Steve had never felt more complete in his life.  His son, his tiny and  _ perfect _ son and Steve couldn’t fathom loving anyone or anything more than he loved James in that moment.  His heart swelled, full of a contentment he had never even  _ imagined _ he could feel.  A happiness he had long since thought was reserved for others, but not for him.    
  
At 4:19 on a Friday morning Steve’s dream turned into a nightmare as the frantic beeping of a heart monitor drowned out James’ first cries.  As a rush of nurses and doctors barrelled into the delivery room and terms he couldn’t even begin to understand were shouted back and forth.  As he turned to see his wife, pale as the sheet she laid on with blood pooled between her legs.  So much red that soaked the sheets and Steve felt himself choking on the smell of copper.  He cradled James to his chest and watched in horror, unmoving because he didn’t know  _ how _ , as Natasha was wheeled out of the room on her bed, and he was left in a deadly silence with their son pressed tight to him.   
  
Eventually a nurse came.  She tried to take James from Steve but when it became apparent Steve was not going to yield she guided him to a chair instead.  She talked as she helped Steve to sit.   _ Hemorrhaging.  Emergency surgery.  We will let you know as soon as we know. _  Steve heard, but didn’t  _ hear.  _   Numb to the world around him, save for the tiny little bundle in his arms.  The nurse helped him guide a bottle to James’ mouth, coached him gently into urging James to latch to the nipple.  It took some time but James got it and sucked down the formula hungrily.     
  
And then they were alone again.  In an empty room, and Steve’s eyes focused on the droplets of blood that had fallen to the ground.  James cried and he pulled his son closer to him.  In the distance he could hear voices.  He could hear the first cries of another child being brought into the world.  He could hear the cheers and celebration.  The way it was supposed to be.  The way it  _ should _ have been for them.  His mind drifted to the moment the doctor placed his son in his arms.  He would have turned, Natasha would have been on the bed, exhausted but  _ well _ , that soft smile on her face that was reserved only for him.  For  _ them _ now.  How happy she would have been to meet their son, how peaceful she would have been to have him placed on her chest, skin to skin.  To finally be able to hold the child she had loved, nurtured, and protected for nine months.   
  
Voices cackled on the intercom system.  Other dramas unfolded.  Other joys and other tragedies.  And still he sat.  In an empty room with his son to his chest and his wife’s blood on the floor.     
  
A nurse came back with a basin of water and helped Steve bathe James - a few tears at first but he soon relaxed as Steve dribbled the warm water over his skin.  They dressed him in the outfit Natasha had spent weeks agonizing over.  A pale green sleeper with little yellow stripes and a matching hat.  He wrapped James in the blanket that had once served to bring Cooper home from the hospital, then Lila, and then Nate.  Gifted to Natasha one Sunday afternoon when they had gone out to the farm.  He thought of the promise had made to Laura less than twenty four hours ago.   _ You’ll call, as soon as he’s here, right? _  He didn’t have the heart.  The nurse forced a granola bar on Steve, a glass of water.  For the first time in years he  _ longed _ for his mother.  Not in the sentimental it would be  _ nice _ way, but  _ ached _ .     
  
A janitor slipped in and cleaned.  Bedsheets and gowns tossed into bags.  The smell of bleach stung at Steve’s nostrils.  And God how he wanted to tell the man to stop when the mop hit the floor.  To leave the blood, the only record his wife had been there.  The only reminder he had left that they were  _ supposed to be three not two.   _ But he knew he couldn’t.     
  
Finally a doctor came.  Words that he again didn’t understand.  More things he heard without hearing.   _ Wait and see. _  Three words.  Three little words that did nothing to calm the anger at the universe that raged inside of him.  He was shuffled into a room, Natasha laid still on the bed.  Needles in her hand, needles in her arm.  Fluids poured into her, blood to replenish that which she had lost.  The steady beep of a heartbeat but yet she was still.  Stiller than he had ever seen her and he  _ longed _ for the life to come back to her face.     
  
_ Talk to her _ the nurse urged when she rolled in a little bassinet for him to set James in.   _ Tell her how beautiful her son is. _  And then it was just them.  The steady  _ beep beep _ , the voices over a loudspeaker in the hall.  James slept soundly and Steve pulled his chair up to Natasha’s bed.  He could save the world, he could keep billions safe, but he was powerless in this moment.  He hated it.  There was no one to punch, no one to defeat, there was nothing his shield could stop or save here.  There was just  _ wait and see _ .     
  
“Nat..”  his voice cracked.  “Baby it’s me,” he continued, a gravel of a whisper.  “You should see him, you did so well.  He’s beautiful.  He’s so beautiful, Nat…” he paused, swallowed hard and gripped her hand tight in his.  He could feel whatever strength he had managed to hold onto failing him and failing quick.  “I love you, I  _ need _ you…” he continued.  “We’re a family, you, me, James.  Come on, Nat you need to wake up….” His head fell to their interlaced hands and he could feel the moisture that pooled in his eyes, his mouth contorted into a silent sob.   “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you,” he paused. “ _ We _ can’t do this without you.”   
  
At 4:17 on a Friday morning his son was born.  At 4:18 he held him for the first time.  At 4:19 his worst nightmare came true.  And at 2:34 on a Friday afternoon his wife squeezed his hand, fluttered her eyes slightly and groaned.  “Christ, Rogers, you are such a dramatic little shit.” _   
_


End file.
